


here comes the greek tragedy

by gay_as_heck



Category: The Song of Achilles - Madeline Miller
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, Slow Burn, Tragic Romance, ish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-05
Updated: 2015-09-05
Packaged: 2018-04-19 03:51:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4731866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gay_as_heck/pseuds/gay_as_heck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>For the titles of the chapters (and the work as a whole) I basically butchered <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9MHmx9nvHqU">Greek Tragedy</a> so there's that.<br/>Enjoy this small work filled with angst, the ocean, and some smut.<br/><a href="http://8tracks.com/gay_as_heck/swim-to-me">Fanmix</a></p>
    </blockquote>





	1. i hate this feeling

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ShyWriter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShyWriter/gifts).



> For the titles of the chapters (and the work as a whole) I basically butchered [Greek Tragedy](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9MHmx9nvHqU) so there's that.  
> Enjoy this small work filled with angst, the ocean, and some smut.  
> [Fanmix](http://8tracks.com/gay_as_heck/swim-to-me)

 

* * *

 

_**There is blood, everywhere, pouring from what seems like every orific in her body, but she can’t find it in her to scream. She can only whimper, her knees buckling as she falls, a seemingly endless fall, and her last.** _

 

* * *

 

Deidameia gave birth alone. She screamed and cried, her smooth hands held by the grooved ones of her servant, the midwife’s clammy hands on her thighs, and she had never felt so completely alone in her life.

Dawn came, slowly, and as her newborn at last left her womb, her only thought was:  _You are leaving me forever._

“The child is a boy,” came the midwife’s joyous voice. She placed her son in her arms, and Deidameia closed her eyes. She would not look at him, could not bear to glance at the only thing tethering her to Achilles, knowing Thetis would soon take him from her.

A chill filled the room, and she unconsciously clutched her child closer. 

“Have you named him?” Thetis’ grating voice made her shiver, and she opened her eyes to see the sea goddess across the room, her gaze on the infant in her arms.

Deidameia at last looked down at her child, with hair like fire and eyes that had not yet opened, and whispered, “His name is Neoptolemus.”

_New warrior._

The goddess was gone before she took her next breath.

She returned several days later, when her son, who she now called Pyrrhus, was resting. Deidameia, who had been on the verge of sleep, now warily watched the goddess.

“He is not yet weaned,” she said worriedly.

“I am not a fool,” the goddess snapped, watching her grandson rest. She gingerly rested a hand on his head, and watched his sleeping form for another moment before she vanished.

Deidameia spent the next year living in fear.

Every moment Pyrrhus was out of her sight she spent with her heart pounding, her hands clenched tightly as a vision of Thetis snatching her child away and taking him to the ocean filled her mind. Thetis would occasionally visit, letting her grandson crawl into her lap, even letting him tug on her dark hair. Deidameia should have been comforted that Pyrrhus took to her in such an affectionate manner, but it only distressed her. If Thetis took to care too much for her grandson, she may think it better to take him away earlier.

She watched her son learn to crawl, stayed up all hours of the night as his teeth began to come in, smiled as he took his first step before immediately falling into the dirt.

She learned to ignore the stares of her servant, Althea. Deidameia knew she cared for her, and was simply worried that Deidameia would never return home, would live out her days here alone with her son in a hidden corner of the world.

When a little more than two years had passed since her son’s birth, Thetis came and stayed for even longer, her black eyes shrewdly watching Deidameia care for him. When the sun set and Pyrrhus had been put to bed, Thetis approached her.

“It will not be much longer.”

Deidameia dropped her hairpiece, and bent down to pick it up with shaky fingers.

“Another year, perhaps.”

Deidameia nodded.

There was silence, and Deidameia gathered her courage before turning to face the goddess. “How does Achilles fare?”

Thetis’ expression changed to one of pity.

“He has joined the war against the Trojans.”

She made no mention of Patroclus, and Deidameia wondered if her competitor for Achilles’ affections still held his heart.

“And his companion?”

The goddess’ expression turned stony.

“He yet lives. He has joined my son in the war.”

The goddess disappeared from sight, leaving Deidameia with tears forming in her eyes.

 

* * *

 

Deidameia watched her son grow over the course of the next few months. He grew faster than any child she’d seen before, running and jumping before he could even speak.

Thetis was visiting the day he first spoke. Deidameia thought at first that she had simply been hearing things, until he repeated the word.

“Mama.”

Tears rolled down her cheeks as she clutched her son to her bosom, forgetting for a moment that the woman who was to take her son away was in the room with her. She wiped her eyes and smiled.

“Yes, mama.” She smiled, kissing her sons fiery hair before setting him down. When she turned to look at Thetis, she was already gone.

Pyrrhus soon began eating fruit and soft meats. Part of Deidameia wanted to keep him on mother’s milk forever, but she knew she could not lie to a goddess. She reluctantly began to wean him, dreading the days the goddess came to visit, knowing now that her days with her son were truly numbered.

She knew the day Thetis came to make her last visit, for she had brought two sea nymphs with her. They were the most beautiful women she’d ever seen, dark of skin with hair brushing the backs of their knees, one with wide, golden eyes while the other had slanted eyes bluer than the sea itself.

Deidameia turned to Pyrrhus, playing contentedly with a twig, and tears filled her eyes.

“Please,” she whispered to the goddess, who was making her way over to her grandson, her arms outstretched to pick him up.

“I wish to go with you,” she said suddenly, standing on her unsteady legs.

Thetis turned to look at her, one delicate eyebrow raised in disbelief.

“I wish to go with you,” Deidameia repeated, her voice wavering as the goddess stepping closer.

“You are a foolish girl,” she sneered, her long hair undulating in the wind. “No mortal may live with gods.”

“You are taking Pyrrhus. He is mortal.” Diedameia stepped back. “I wish to go as well.”

Thetis studied her for a moment, her black eyes narrowing.

“What makes you think I would take you?”

“You have taken all from me,” Deidameia answered, her breath hitching in her throat. “You cannot leave me here. I have nothing left.”

The goddess turned to glance at Pyrrus before turning back to Deidameia, eyes scanning her face.

“Phoibe,” she said, not bothering to remove her gaze from Deidamaia. The golden eyed sea nymph came scurrying to her side.

“You and Eupraxia will be in charge of her. See to it that she does not die, and does not bother me.” With that, the goddess moved swiftly to carry Pyrrhus, and vanished from sight.

Deidamaia gasped quietly, and tears pricked her eyes. She blinked in a futile attempt to keep them from falling.

“Come now, Princess,” Eupraxia touched her arm gently. “We must leave.”

“Where has she taken my son?” Deidameia’s voice wavered.

“To the sea,” Eupraxia answered, “and if we fail to take our leave now, we may not reach them in time.”

“In time for what?"

“The ceremony. She is to initiate him into our community.”

“And I?”

“You…” Eupraxia glanced at Phoibe. “The goddess has not yet said anything about a ceremony for you. Perhaps you will live in the community as a visitor.”

“We must leave now. Although perhaps,” Phoibe pondered, “you may not be allowed to watch the ceremony.”

A sudden anger filled Deidameia. “I don’t _care_ about any senseless ceremony, and I’m not concerned about being a member of any community. I only want to be near my son.”

“Understood, Princess. We will take you to him.”

She felt as if she was falling from a great height, and then she suddenly wasn’t, her bare feet planted on wet sand, a salty breeze whipping her hair back.

“Where is my son?”

“Thetis has already taken him underwater. They will emerge shortly.”

“But he-”

“He will be fine. He has the protection of a goddess.”

Deidameia kept her eyes on the see, her fingers tensing every time a wave broke, her breaths harsh and shallow. 

Pyrrhus emerged first, Thetis after him, both of them soaked, Pyrrhus’ bright hair flat on his forehead.

“Pyrrhus!” She ran to him, picking him up and twirling him around before hugging him tightly.

He rested his hands on her cheeks, smiling brightly. “I’m fine, mama.”

She laughed. “I know.”

She looked up to thank the goddess, but she was gone.

“Thetis has commanded us to take you to the villa where her devotees live. You and Pyrrhus will be safe there.”

She put Pyrrhus down and nodded. “We’ll follow.”

Eupraxia and Phoibe began walking, and Deidameia took Pyrrhus by the hand, and they walked.

 

* * *

 

“This will be your room.” Phoibe gestured towards a small room, with a simple bed. 

Deidameia walked in, Pyrrhus waddling after her, babbling incoherently.

“Thank you.”

Phoibe nodded. “If you wish, Pyrrhus can be put to bed by another one of the women here. You seem…” She trailed off.

“Thank you,” Deidameia repeated, unsure of what to say.

“Come with Eupraxia and I to our room. We usually talk before bed.”

Deidameia turned back to glance at Pyrrhus, who was already crawling into bed.

“He will be fine. Come.” Phoibe walked out, and Deidameia gave Pyrrhus one last look before she followed her.

 

* * *

 

Phoibe giggled for the third time that hour, shrill and agravating, and Deidameia wanted to cover her ears with her hands. That, however, would be lacking in decorum.

“…And Eupraxia promised the King she would visit him again shortly, which, of course, she never did.”

Eupraxia frowned. “We’ve all had our tales of distasteful suitors. Why not tell one of your own?”

“Because yours are _far_ more interesting.”

“And the goddess?” Deidameia broke in suddenly.

“Princess?” Phoibe asked.

“The goddess. What of her tales of distasteful suitors?"

“Well, aside from her husband, Peleus, I cannot think of any. She does not speak of men often. That is, of course, because of her nature.”

“Her nature?"

“She…prefers the female form.”

“I…pardon me?”

“Thetis,” Phoibe twisted her hands nervously. “She does not enjoy the company of men.”

Deidameia furrowed her brow. “Do you mean she…she loves women the way you love a husband?”

“Exactly that way.”

“In the way Achilles loves Patroclus,” she muttered bitterly.

“I suppose,” Phoibe agreed. “You are not opposed to it, are you?”

“To what?” Deidameia asked sharply.

“To love between two people who could never conceive a child together.”

“No, I am not opposed.” She stood. “I will take my leave now. I plan to rise early tomorrow.”

“I wish you a pleasant night, Princess.”

“Please, do not call me that anymore. I am no ruler here. I’m just a…a foolish girl.”

“Pri-Deida-”

“A-Apologies,” Deidameia stuttered. “I must go.” She ran, fled from the prying eyes of the nymphs. She didn’t know where she was until the dry sand beneath her feet became wet, and cold waves lapped at her ankles.

She fell to her knees, the water soaking her tunic as tears rolled down her cheeks. She felt as if a great hole was opening deep within her chest, and every hurt she’d ever felt in her life was assaulting her at once. She whimpered, taking in a shaky breath as the wind caressed her face.

“The hour is late.”

Deidameia whipped her head up, startled. She turned to see Thetis standing behind her, staring out into the dark of the sea.

“You should be abed.”

Before Deidameia could respond, the goddess walked into the sea, then dove under, disappearing in an instant.

Deidameia went back to her new home.

 

* * *

 

“Mama?”

Deidameia opened her eyes blearily, her son’s freckled face blurry before her. She smiled, and pressed a kiss to his forehead. 

“Food.”

Deidameia sat up. “We will see if there’s anything prepared.”

She picked him up, holding him tightly on her hip as she walked in the direction of bustling sounds.

“Greetings, Deidameia.”

Deifameia smiled at Phoibe. “Good morning.”

“There are figs on the table, if you wish to eat. Eupraxia and Doris are preparing porridge.”

“Gratitude.” Deidameia smiled. She sat down, seating Pyrrhus on the table as she picked up a fig, taking a bite out of it and breaking off a small piece for Pyrrhus, who accepted the morsel eagerly.

The scent of salt filled the air as Eupraxia and Phoibe sat near her, bowls of steaming porridge placed on the table. Deidameia smiled at the nymphs and picked up a spoon, scooping porridge into Pyrrhus’ mouth. He ate messily, porridge running down his chin and in his hands, and Phoibe giggled as Eupraxia smiled.

“He’s lovely.”

Before Deidameia could answer, a chill entered the room and Thetis was standing before her.

“I am taking the child.” Pyrrhus was out of her reach and gone before she could voice her dissent.

“I am sorry,” Phoibe said sympathetically. “She will return soon.”

“I know,” Deidameia whispered. She ate, filling her mouth with porridge that felt thick and heavy in her mouth, and tasted bland.

It was to be that way for four more years. 


	2. but i love this part

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Five points to whoever can spot the Spartacus quote.

* * *

 

**_She coughs, blood speckling her lips, her hands pressed onto her stomach in a futile attempt to still the flow of blood seeping through her fingers._ **

**_“Why?” Her voice cracks, the scent of blood in the air. She can only see her assailant’s shadow, back turned to leave the room._ **

 

* * *

 

As Pyrrhus grew older, and stronger, far larger than a child his age should be, Deidameia worried.

She worried for her son, for his safety. She knew not what the goddess did with him in the morning, only that when he returned he seemed to gleam.

She worried for her son’s future. What kind of future would a boy who lived amongst goddesses have? Would he even have one?

She never dared ask the goddess any of these questions.

She never even dared ask who the other women at the villa were. They were quiet, gray women, who didn’t speak unless they were spoken to and kept to themselves. 

Deidameia steered clear of them.

 

* * *

 

The goddess did not hate her anymore. _Or so you believe,_ she thought.

She no longer glared at Deidameia, or even ignored her. 

She was as gracious as Deidameia had ever seen her be, to her, at least.

Deidameia sometimes felt an overwhelming desire to either strike Thetis or kiss her. She wasn’t sure which she would do first. 

 _Hitting her,_ she thought, _will most likely leave me in a better condition than kissing her will._

 

* * *

 

Phoibe and Eupraxia were the two closest, and only, friends she had.

They listened to her, if nothing else, told her stories to distract her, sometimes taught her how to fend for herself.

She was grateful for their kindness.

 

* * *

 

The day everything changed (for the better or the worse) was an ordinary one.

She rose early, fed Pyrrhus, helped Eupraxia and Phoibe clean (she did not have to, but it eased her nerves to do something with her hands).

She was leaning against a wall watching Eupraxia prepare their midday meal when it happened.

One minute she was standing, the next she was on the floor, her body seizing up, the cup that had been in her hands falling to the floor and shattering.

Wine spilled across the floor, puddling under her elbow, and her head hit the marble floor with a loud thud, her breath knocked out of her.

She heard Eupraxia scream, faintly, and she closed her eyes, willing for Pyrrhus to remain deaf to everything happening.

Her last thought was:  _Phoibe made that cup herself. She will be disappointed._

 

* * *

 

She awoke slowly, her eyelashes blocking her vision, whispers filling her ears.

“She has awoken."

Deidameia opened her eyes fully and saw Phoibe before her, eyes filled with worry.

"How long?" Deidameia's voice rasped in her throat. "How long have I been abed?"

"Two days and two nights. We were worried your time had come."

"You will not be rid of me that easily."

Phoibe smiled at her, brushing her hair back from her forehead, and Deidameia closed her eyes to keep them from welling up with unexpected tears. She would _not_ cry over a simple touch.

"The goddess was worried,” Phoibe said, setting a bowl down near her as a few women exited the room quietly. “She stayed at your bedside all night. Uncommon, for her.”

Deidameia did not let herself react, although she felt a glowing warmth in her chest. “Was she?”

Phoibe nodded, sitting down. “She left at dawn. She did leave instructions to care for you.”

"And Pyrrhus?"

"He is fine. Eupraxia is watching him."

Deidameia coughed, turning away from Phoibe.

“I will be back soon.” She stood. “I must prepare the evening meal today.”

Deidameia nodded, her eyes already fluttering shut in sleep.

She did not expect to hear footsteps in her room, and she opened her eyes to see Thetis before her, her normally stoic face softened with concern.

"You were close to death. But the fates saw fit to let your life continue being woven.”

Deidameia smiled weakly, staring up at the goddess. 

“They simply could not be bothered with paying attention to me.”

Thetis frowned, and placed a cool hand on Deidameia’s forehead. The touch electrified her, her heart pounding hard.

“Rest.” The goddess removed her hand.”Pyrrhus asks for you.”

Deidameia nodded as the goddess turned in her chair, preparing to leave.

“Wait,” Deidemeia whispered, bringing her hand up to brush the goddess’ arm.

Thetis turned back, a rare look of confusion on her face.

“I-“ Deidameia sat up, craning her neck upwards, her lips brushing against Thetis’. Her lips were surprisingly warm, and she smelled of sand, of brine. 

Thetis recoiled, and Deidameia felt a pang in her heart as the goddess drew back, her black eyes narrowed. She stood and turned heel quickly, leaving Deidameia with burning shame.

She should have hit her instead.

 

* * *

 

Phoibe and Eupraxia came to her room later, bearing entertainment and food, along with comforting smiles. Deidmameia was glad for their company.

“Did you do something to anger the goddess?”

Deidameia paused, her hand hovering over the scrolls Eupraxia and Phoibe had brought for her. “What do you mean?”

“She left your room rather quickly, and she retired to her chambers for several hours,” Eupraxia replied, nudging Phoibe, who was busy eating grapes.

“Mhm,” Phoibe affirmed, her cheeks puffed up.

Deidameia made a dismissive gesture, turning her face so as to hide her expression. “She seemed tired. Perhaps she needed rest.”

“You may be right.” Eupraxia smiled at Deidameia, before turning to nudge Phoibe with her elbow as she stood.

“We will leave you to your rest. Good night, Deidameia.”

“Good night."

 

* * *

 

She did not see the goddess for another fortnight, long after she was fully healed. 

She was sitting with Pyrrhus, telling him the story of the mighty Heracles and his twelve labors, when Thetis’ flowing robe filled her vision. She didn’t dare breathe, for fear of provoking the ire of the goddess.

“A word, Deidameia.”

Her tongue was suddenly dry, so she simply nodded, leaving Pyrrhus on the floor as she stood, following Thetis to her room.

The goddess stood before her, her dimly lit chambers and Deidameia still could not find her voice.

Thetis walked towards her, closer, and Deidameia almost flinched, but she stopped herself, staring at the floor, praying the goddess would spare her a public humiliation.

Thetis leaned in, bent her head and pressed her lips against Deidameia’s. She pulled back and straightened again.

“I have no desire to force you to-"

Deidameia stood on the tips of her toes, her lips crashing against Thetis’ as she wrapped her arms around her neck. She kissed her forcefully, and the goddess slowly deepened the kiss, her hands hovering around her waist. 

“Do not think,” Deidameia said boldly. “Just…” she trailed off.

A ghost of a smile flickered across Thetis’ face before she kissed her again, and Deidameia stepped backward, pulling the goddess with her, the backs of her knees hitting the edge of her bed.

Deidameia pulled away, breathless, her fingers playing with the fine hair at the back of Thetis’ neck.

Thetis opened her mouth-

“Goddess!”

They pulled apart, Deidameia’s arms dropping limply.

“I will return.” The goddess touched Deidameia’s cheek, lightly, before she left, leaving Deidameia with a flush in her cheeks.

 

* * *

 

Her life did not change, not much.

The goddess continued to take Pyrrhus out for hours on end, with no word to when they would return or where they went.

Deidameia still spent much of her time with Phoibe and Eupraxia, watching Pyrrhus or simply conversing.

Although life in Thetis’ province was still a far cry from life in her father's kingdom, she found she didn’t mind the change. Not anymore.

 

* * *

 

Deidameia was laying on the shore, sprawled out, eyes shut, when the familiar air that followed Thetis was in her throat and lungs abruptly.

She smiled. “What brings you here?”

“I own this land, silly girl.”

Deidameia opened her eyes, and the goddess was standing over her, her pale face framed by her black hair, the barest hint of a smile on her lips.

She disappeared from her line of sight, and Deidameia sat up, watching as Thetis waded out hip deep into the water before turning back to look at her.

“Come.” She held her hand out. “I wish to show you something.”

Deidameia stood and waded out into the cold water, taking her hand gingerly as she stepped in.

“I ca-"

“I know.” Thetis squeezed her hand, slightly. “Have faith.”

They waded in further, the waves making Deidameia’s body sway back and forth, and she clutched the goddess’ hand more tightly. The water moved suddenly, and she was standing on damp sand, clear blue water on either side of her.

“How-” She stopped herself. Of course Thetis could do this.

Deidameia marveled at the walls of water on either side of her, letting Thetis guide her deeper into the ocean, veering left slightly. She looked up, and saw a dark cave before her, the mouth of it gaping and jagged, like the mouth of some great beast. Thetis pulled her along, stepping up into the cave, then lifting her up. Water seeped out of her tunic, dripping onto the floor with soft plinks.

They walked up makeshift stone stairs, and as Deidameia reached the highest step the ocean water came crashing down behind her, a faint spray hitting her face.

The room was dark and immense, lit by a single candle in the middle. Thetis flicked her wrist delicately and there were suddenly candles lined the walls, revealing a beautifully woven carpet on the floor, paintings hanging on the walls, and intricate carvings in the areas where no paintings were hung. She saw a dark shadow that indicated the entrance to another room, and opened her mouth to ask where it led until the goddess spoke.

"This is my true dwelling.” Thetis’ voice echoed in the vastness of the room. “I stay here when I wish to be alone.”

Deidameia smiled. “That must be often.”

Thetis sighed with mock exasperation. “Never insult a goddess.”

“It is not an insult to say you desire solitude.” She squeezed Thetis’ hand as her eyes dropped down to the curves of her body, the soaking dress clinging to her.

The goddess didn’t respond, just stared at the room, her fingers tapping Deiadameia’s hand slowly.

“Do you bring many innocent girls here?” Deidameia jested, filling the silence with unnecessary words.

“No,” Thetis said gravely, her black eyes trained on Deidameia’s lips. “You are the first.”

Deidameia’s heart swelled, and she put her arms around the goddess' neck, pulling her down to kiss her amorously. Their bodies were pressed up against one another, the wet cloth squishing as their bodies moved closer. Deidameia’s legs shifted slightly, and the goddess inhaled sharply. Deidameia moved slightly again, her thigh pressing into Thetis, and the goddess exhaled slowly.

“Deiada-”

“I want this,” Deidameia whispered, her hand resting on Thetis’ jaw, her heart pounding in her ears. “I… _desire_ to be one with you.”

Thetis hesitated, a vulnerable expression on her face for the first time Diedameia could remember, but she leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of her mouth. Deidameia kissed her back, her hands holding onto Thetis’ jaw just a little too tightly, and then she was being gently lowered to the floor, the plush carpet soft under her back. The goddess loomed above her, her hair falling elegantly about her shoulders, and Deidameia was struck again by her beauty. 

She smiled, breathless, and Thetis kissed her again, her hands sliding her dress off her shoulders, lowered down just enough to reveal her breasts. Deidameia shuddered at the cold air that brushed her nipples, and Thetis dropped her head, kissing down the curve her neck, past her collarbone, down to her breasts. Deidameia gasped at the touch, her back arching as Thetis removed her dress, pooling on the floor under her legs. 

She pressed kisses down the length of Deidameia's stomach, her tongue dipping into her navel briefly before moving down, to the soft skin of her inner thighs. Thetis pushed her thighs open, slowly, her breath making Deidameia shiver, and then she was kissing the wet heat between her thighs, slowly licking up and down. Deidameia whimpered, her arousal building as her hands balled into fists, as Thetis went faster. 

Her arousal culminated as suddenly as it started, her breathing quickening and every muscle in her body drawing taut, then suddenly letting go, the relief so grand she moaned, her hands uncurling from their fists. The goddess continued to pleasure her, with her fingers now, stroking her gently, and her pleasure built again, almost painful. Thetis slid a finger inside her, moving in and out, and the pleasure came crashing down like a wave upon the sand, sudden and necessary and beautiful.

The goddess slowed her pace, moving her lips up again, to her heaving chest and dewy neck, back up to claim her lips.

“I…” Deidameia paused. “I wish to do the same for you.”

Thetis chuckled, slightly. “It is not hard.” She covered Deidameia’s hand with her own. “Do what you do to yourself."

Deidameia obeyed, her fingers sliding over the places she touched herself, her breasts, her hips, the warm lips between her hips. She moved until she found the spot that made Thetis’ hips buck up, that drew sighs and groans from her wide red mouth.

Thetis in ecstasy was easily the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen.

 

* * *

 

Her life still did not change much.

 

* * *

 

“How fares the goddess?”

Deiadmeia shrugged. “I do not know. I have not seen her today.”

She saw Phoibe and Eupraxia share a look, and Eupraxia turned to her, clearing her throat.

“Deia-”

“We know,” Phoibe broke in. “About, well, the goddess.”

Deidameia chuckled, looking down at the toy she was making for Pyrrhus. “Know what?”

“You know what we are speaking of. You _know_ each other.”

“I think I would be quite a fool if I did not know her,” Deidameia replied airly, biting her cheek to keep from laughing.

“Deidameia, do not tease us!”

She burst out laughing, dropping her head into her hands. 

“I’m sure you find this quite amusing, Deidameia, but-”

“Stop being so serious! By the gods, you would think someone had died.”

“So they _are_ true? The rumors?” Phoibe lightly hit Deidameia’s knee, pressing her for an answer.

“They are no mere rumors,” Deidameia responded. “I will say that much, and that much only.”

Eupraxia shrugged. “It will have to do.”

Deidameia smiled at her friends. “Now get back to whatever it is you two are doing, the goddess will be displeased if you don’t finish it in time.”

She saw Phoibe and Eupraxia exchange amused smiles when they thought she was not looking.

 

* * *

 

The world did not stop spinning because she fell in love.

Life carried on, in the most ordinary ways possible.

The only thing that was different was that she now knew what it was like to love someone who was like the waves that crashed upon the sand.

 

* * *

 

Pyrrhus was asleep in Deidameia's bed, and she was in Thetis’ bedchamber, wearing nothing but the jewels around her throat and the silk in her hair, and for the first time in her life, she was drunk. Whether it was the wine or the goddess, she did not know.

She giggled, and she knew the sound was grating, but she could not help it. She was straddling the goddess, who was fully clothed, and although the goddess had by now seen her naked a thousand times over, blood still filled her cheeks at the way her eyes hungrily devoured her body.

“You are beautiful.” The words fell out of Thetis’ mouth like pebbles thrown by a child into a lake.

Heat filled her cheeks, and she laughed in lieu of an answer. Thetis held the goblet up, and Deidameia opened her mouth, the wine filling her mouth and spilling down into her throat, warm and spicy.

Deidameia laughed as liquid spilled down her cheek. “You drown me.”

“In more than wine.” The goddess took a large swallow, her lips reddened, and Deidameia could not help but lean in, gently biting her lip, the wine sparking a fire within her veins.

It was not to be this way for long.


	3. i wanted this to work so much

* * *

 

**_He turns, slowly walks over to her, crouching down in a pool of her blood. He places a hand on her cheek, surprisingly gentle, and caresses her cold skin with his thumb._ **

**_A hint of a smile passes over his face, before it is replaced with stone cold indifference._ **

 

* * *

 

 Pyrrhus was different.

She didn’t know when she noticed it, or why it took her so long to do so.

 _Perhaps_ , she thought guiltily, _I have not paid as much attention to my son as I should have._

He now longer played in the sand, marveling at the sea shells he dug up, or read with Phoibe, or snuck into the kitchens to watch Eupraxia prepare food. He preferred to be in the ocean, or off by himself, training. 

What he trained for, Deidameia did not know.

He no longer let her kiss his forehead before he went to bed.

 

* * *

 

 Phoibe and Eupraxia were afraid of Pyrrhus now.

They never said so, and denied it if Deidameia asked them, but she knew. She saw it in their eyes. Heard it in what they omitted from conversations with her.

 

* * *

 

When Pyrrhus was gone, she asked the goddess about it.

“My son is different.”

“He will be a god.” Thetis caressed Deidameia’s bare arm. “It is no surprise that he is different than other children.”

“But…” Deidameia shook her head. “He is not the same as he once was.”

“How so?”

She fumbled with her words. “He…I...he is just.. _different_. I cannot explain it.” She could sense the goddess’ indifference, even as she drew her closer, her hand wandering down, lifting up the hem of her dress.

“You have no need to worry yourself over such things. Pyrrhus will grow into one of the finest warriors the world has ever known.”

Deidameia let the goddess bring her to ecstasy, and tried to forget.

 

* * *

 

 She could ignore it no longer when her son entered his 10th year.

  

* * *

 

 That was the year he first killed someone.

 

* * *

 

She stumbled upon the body buried halfway in the sand, and recoiled in horror. Bile rose in her throat, and she tried to keep her legs steady as she walked closer.

He had fair hair, curly, and a muscular build, and she was reminded for a moment of Achilles.

He was face down, blood seeping out of his back, his sandals torn, and his hands gone. Just completely gone.

She heaved, stumbling to her knees, small grains of sand digging into her hands as she tried to ignore the smell of death.

 

* * *

 

 When she made it back to the villa, shaken, she found Pyrrhus’ tunic, covered in blood.

 

* * *

 

“My son _killed_ a man!”

“He is a warrior. He does what warriors do.”

“He has yet to become a man! He is no warrior.”

Thetis scoffed. “Mortals have always had strange ideas of what it means to be a man.”

“Forgive me then,” Deidameia said mockingly, “for being a mortal. Forgive my lowly life.”

The goddess’ eyes flashed. “It was agreed that _I_ would raise Thetis. I have raised him, and I decide whether what he does deserves punishment.”

“I agreed to _nothing_! You manipulated my father and myself into giving him up.” Deidameia regretted her words immediately, but there was no way to reverse what she had said.

“I did no such thing.” Thetis snapped. “It was what was best for Pyrrhus.”

“I do not believe it was,” Deidameia muttered, turning away from the goddess.

The goddess did not respond, and Deidameia crossed her arms, inwardly cursing herself.

“What is it you want from me?”

Deidameia breathed deeply, turning back to face the goddess. “For my son to raised as any other child.”

Thetis laughed bitterly. “It is far too late for that.”

“Then cease his training, his morning journeys with you. Let the damage that has been done be reversed.”

“Damage?”

Deidameia winced. “I did not mean it that way.”

“Do not lie to me, Deidameia."

Deidameia did not disagree.

She slept in her own bed that night.

 

* * *

 

She thought of leaving, taking Pyrrhus with her and going deep into walled city far from the sea.

She had no claim on Pyrrhus any longer, but, perhaps, if she found patronage from another god or goddess-

_What a fool you are._

 

* * *

 

Thetis no longer made love to her.

 

* * *

 

 

She left less than a week later, stole away in the dead of night with nothing but the clothes on her back.

She left a note for Pyrrhus, and one for Thetis.

Pyrrhus’ took up two scrolls, while Thetis’ was no more than three words.

_I am sorry._

 

* * *

 

She made it to a small village where no one knew her name, and stayed there, working with the other women to earn a roof over her head and food in her belly.

They all thought her a disgraced young girl who had been exiled from her home.

She never bothered to tell them the truth. Who would believe her?

It was near enough to the truth.

 

* * *

 

She waited for Thetis.

 

* * *

 

She waited for years.

 

* * *

 

She gave up waiting the year Pyrrhus turned twelve. She wondered where he was. Whether he was content or not.

She hoped he was.

 

* * *

 

She saw Pyrrhus that same year.

 

* * *

 

"Mother." Deidameia turned, startled, dropping the bowl of broth in her hands.

"Pyrrhus!" She ran to him, hugging him tightly, her face buried in his shoulder. "My son." She placed her hands on his cheeks. "You have grown much since I last saw you."

He nodded, stiffening slightly as she kept her hands on him, and she dropped them quickly.

"Would you like something to eat?" She stooped to pick up the bowl she had dropped. "There is not much here today, but I could procure something, if you so desire."

"Mother."

She turned, and she was up against the wall, her throat bared, a sharp silver knife pressed against it.

"Pyrrhus," she choked out, her air leaving her lungs. "Pyrrhus, I beg of you-"

"We are past begging." He held her up by the throat with his forearm, the knife pricking her stomach.

"I never meant to cause you any pain, Pyrrhus."

"We are also past apologizing."

The knife slid into her belly.

 

* * *

 

**_“We all must die, mother.” He stands, his firey red hair gleaming in the stream of sunlight that comes in through the fluttering curtains._ **

**_“My..my son.” She inhales deeply. “I have loved you above all others."_ **

**_“Even the goddess?” He asks sharply._ **

**_“All others,” she whispers. “You have been the light of my life. My…my Pyrrhus.”_ **

**_“For that, I gave you the mercy of a quick death. Your breath shall leave you soon enough.”_ **

**_He leaves, and she is utterly alone._ **

 

* * *

 

“Deidameia!”

She could barely see, her eyes clouded over, but she recognized Thetis’ voice, and smiled.

“Who did this to you?”

Deidameia shook her head. “It does not matter.” Her hand groped blindly, searching for Thetis. “Give me your hand.”

She felt the cold fingers of her goddess slip into hers, and she smiled again.

"How did you find me?"

"I've always known where you were."

"Then why did you never come for me?" 

"I thought you fled to escape me."

Deidameia smiled. "I fled in the hope you would come after me. I was foolish."

Thetis did not answer, and Deidameia gripped her hand more tightly.

“I have loved you. Know that.”

“Deidameia!” Anguish colored Thetis’ voice, and it pained her to hear it. “Tell me who did this.”

She sighed, the blood in her lungs making it hard to breathe deeply. “Please, do not make this harder. Grant me my dying wish.”

“Anything.”

“Hold me.”

Thetis slipped her arm behind Deidameia’s back, propping her up. She felt a drop of moisture on her face that she knew wasn’t her own blood, and frowned.

“Do not shed tears.” She brought her free palm up to cup Thetis’ cheek. “My death was inevitable.”

“It was not to be like this.”

She tightened her grip on Thetis’ hand. “My fate was chosen long ago. The fates do not spare the young.” She smiled. “Or the beautiful.”

Thetis stayed silent, her fingers gripping Deidameia’s with a quiet desperation.

"I shall lay eyes upon you again, one day. This separation is only temporary, like the one before this one.”

Thetis pressed a kiss to Deidameia’s wrist. “Wait for me.”

Deidameia inhaled unsteadily. “Keep me in your mind.”

The already dim vision of Thetis darkened, and Deidameia’s arm fell limply to the ground.

“Deida-"

There was silence, and with a small smile gracing her lips, Deidameia faded away.

 

* * *

  


End file.
